Hang On, Little Tomato!
by Ollen70
Summary: Out across the wastes of the Dalmasca Eastersand, the fell fiend breathes its last...


Ollen70: This story is about as pointless as the title implies, but Iím working my way back into fanfiction and thought Iíd have a little fun. I realize Penelo isnít in your party at this point, but for story purposes, she needed to be.

Final Fantasy XII and the characters therein donít belong to me. No money is being made from this story. Blame Pink Martini for the title, fitting though it might be.

Hang On, Little Tomato

Its fell powers waning, the fiend retired, falling back into the sand with an ungainly squeal. In times of old, its shrieks would have been sufficient to send its assailants to the ground in its stead, holding their heads and wailing. Now, as its perceptions grew more dim, it registered their glances of distaste. Possibly pity.

The fiend was not used to pity - did not appreciate the disdainful considerations of these two, standing so proudly on the ground it had so viciously and eagerly claimed. The fiend was an outcast, wholly unloved by its kind. Over the slow course of years it had grown, slowly reconstituting its power by preying on those so slightly weaker than itself. Its own kind were far from it, many of them suffering the pangs of the diaspora, their race flung to the far corners of this sphere to adapt as best they could.

From the earth, the fiend had torn the power of magic, harnessing fire with deadly proficiency, until the desert itself had begun to yield. No caravan passed, no soul ventured into the fiendís domain without fear. And now... now...

ìPoor thing. I kind of feel bad...î the first of its assailants murmured. Its voice was soft. Weak. Had the fiend not been disowned of its old terror -

ìOnly you, Penelo. I donít feel bad at all. Yeah, you hear that?î The second challenged, waving its primitive weapon at the fiend. Its body was too battered, though the fiend longed to answer the challenge.

ìOh, leave it alone, would you? You read the board - they think it was lonely, thatís the only reason it was attacking people.î The first leaned down, its horrid face too near the fiend. ìYou were just lonesome, werenít you? I wouldíve been your friend...î

ìGeez, Penelo. Stop it, would you? I donít want Kytes to hear about this...î To the fiendís disgust, the second leaned forward as well, regarding the fiend with eyes the color of stagnant pools. ìYou gotta admit, itís pretty ugly.î

ìHow can you say that?î The dreaded first creature, with its long, sandy tails extending from its head, leaned still nearer. ìI donít think youíre ugly. Just misunderstood.î

ìNot like it can understand you, anyway. Itís just a plant, after all.î

ìSomebody mustíve loved it. Look at how itís dressed.î The fiend attempted to hiss. How dare they mock it? It needed no care, no regard. It had thrived for long years alone, slowly asserting its dominance in this, the most inhospitable of terrains...

ìWhere do you get these ideas, Penelo?î The second replied, drawing away in distaste. As if it had any right! The fiend felt its rage grow, but its body was already too far damaged, no longer responding to its own command. ìItís a monster, and it got what was coming to it.î

ìListen to you, all tough. Think theyíre gonna give you a metal for beating up some poor little tomato in its pajamas?î

It was NOT poor! It was NOT little! It was a fearsome fiend, a being of untold and ancient power! With all of its strength, it issued forth another shriek, humiliated by how little power resounded within it. The first grew ever closer, its brow creased in... concern?

ìOh, Vaan, itís in pain...î The fiend felt the creatureís talons - so thin and feeble they could hardly be called talons - rake across its smooth flesh, seeking weakness. It was repulsed by the touch, sickened that its death would come by the efforts of such base beings. The spark within it, momentarily fanned, glowed and then went out.

ìPoor thing! I think itís dead...î

ìYou donít wanna bury it, do you? I might disown you if you say yes...î

Through the growing darkness, the fiend heard the first one sigh. ìNo, itís alright. But toss me your knife, would you?î

ìWhy do you want it?î

ìIíve never tried a desert tomato before. Migelo told me theyíre delicious.î

Fin 


End file.
